Sigrid Ragnhild

Name: Sigrid Ragnhild

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Age: 26

Race: Human, Worgen

Class: Hunter, Barbarian

Profession: Leatherworker, tracker

History:

The idea of uncharted territories has remained an intriguing idea throughout the ages. Its effect on Sigrid's parents was no different. The bustling town of Southshore did nothing but tire them. Soon, they decided to take their leave for the continent of Northrend. For months they planned, spending much of their money on the finest grades of traps and materials. The final step – finding a ship to take them, proved the hardest. Many deemed them insane for even asking. In the end, however, a small goblin vessel offered them passage for a hefty fee. The husband and wife accepted, clueless of the growing Sigrid inside her mother’s womb.

Her mother’s pregnancy became noticeable near the end of the voyage and forced her parents to increase their pace. Sigrid was born in the Grizzly Hills on the outskirts of what would be Silverbrook. From a young age, she was trained in the arts of skinning beasts and curing their skins by her mother Astrid. Within a few years, Sigrid was joined by a younger brother, who was donned Brammil. With her mother tending for the newborn, and Sigrid quickly growing in both size and age, the span of her lessons expanded to cover trapping and hunting, and her father, Reif, took up her training. She was not an easy child to teach and, more than often, infuriated her parents with her stubborn nature. Although she heard her parents and understood their reasoning, she often ignored their methods of trapping and hunting, substituting these methods with her own.

Sigrid mastered the lay of the land, using it to her advantage when hunting. She often took her brother with her to hunt, but was slowed by his clumsiness. He was loud and flat-footed and lacked her agility. He often scared beasts away miles before they were within range of sight. Despite the contrast between the two, the siblings were very close to each other. With Sigrid’s dexterity and speed and Brammil’s brute strength and traditional knowledge, the two made an excellent team. Together they sparred and hunted, even engaging in combat with Vrykuls who wandered too close for comfort.

Although Brammil lacked skills which were traditional in the Ragnhild family, he possessed others. During one of the family’s many treks to the newly built Evergreen Trading Post, he illustrated that he was quite adept in the arts of bargaining. The Ragnhilds did not hesitate to use this to their advantage and, within a few short years, they had acquired enough money to set up shop adjacent to the Silverbrook logging camp. The family flourished as their leather goods grew in popularity. Struggling to keep up with demand, they issued a reward for pelts and paid hunters by the pound. The eyes of one of these hunters, a man named Valdemar, eventually wandered to Sigrid. He gained interest in her and soon courted her with a plethora of flowers and yearning glances. This all was met with nothing but rolling hazel eyes and a turned shoulder; Sigrid could not have cared less. She dismissed his advances as childish displays of affection and, although she eventually befriended him, made no effort to return the man’s sentiments. He again – whether he still felt it was unclear, but he did not pursue another woman.

It was a mere three years before the tranquil feel of Silverbrook began to change. Odd occurrences happened during the nighttime hours, screams were heard not far from town, and the civilians grew restless and weary. Alliance emissaries arrived and began questioning civilians, trying to find out what had happened – or what was happening. On a chilled night, one in which the winds were particularly harsh, a small group of strangers entered the village. The civilians were awoken by harsh clamors and hurried outside to find the source of the wretched noise. Sigrid was among them, and scuttled out like the rest in pursuit of tired curiosity. She was met with an offer, as were the others. The strangers identified themselves as members of a secret organization which was in search of new members: the Wolfcult. Like many of the others, Sigrid was unnerved by their presence, and returned to her shack after hearing them speak.

When she awoke, the strangers had not left, though some civilians had. Through the next few weeks, the group gained members and supporters, but Sigrid, with her stubborn nature and shameless disrespect for authority, would have nothing of it. Her brother, following her example, shared her opinion. Brammil encouraged resistance among the people, but took his actions a step too far when he raised his fist against one of the Wolfcult members. He was slain on the spot, trigging a wave of brief rebellion which was promptly cut short when the members of the Wolfcult exerted their power. Sigrid’s grief vanished in an instant, and her tears in the next – all was replaced by rage. She would have attacked and been met with a swift death had it not been for Valdemar’s strong arm holding her back. Attracted by the constant scream of swears and the thrashing form, one of the Wolfcult members turned his attention to Sigrid. He easily pushed Valdemar away from her, pushing the man to the ground where he then laid unconscious.

The Wolfcult member eyed her up and down, unresponsive to her fists pounding against his chest, unresponsive to her shouted insults, unresponsive, even, to the bead of spit that she planted into his eye. When she had quieted down, her voice hoarse and her hands tired, the man from the Wolfcult smiled upon her and spoke to her in a gruff voice. “You have feist. We like that. We need that.” With those few words, she was taken and dragged to the dark recesses of the forest. It was there that she was forcibly turned, cursed to become what many of the members of the Wolfcult considered an honor.

Sigrid was trained in the cold stone structures of Bloodmoon Isle. Her stubborn and humanoid nature quickly paled and fell to the dark recesses of her mind as she was consumed by the feral savagery of the curse. She served as a guide to the other packmates, who did not know the land as well as she, and led them to villages which were promptly destroyed. Sigrid relished the screams of the pack’s victims, and engaged in ‘playing’ with them herself. Her large size in worgen form allowed for particularly brutal forms of combat. Once pinned beneath her weight, a victim was often met with death. When fighting, Sigrid thought of nothing else. There was something ritualistic about a kill – something serene and calming. Through awareness of her form and absolute concentration, she developed the ability to block out pain. It seemed some white noise in the background not worthy of noting and, to her, it became unimportant.

Over the years she learned the monotonous actions of obedience without challenge, and followed the orders of the pack leader, directed by the Shade Arugal.

For years this continued and Sigrid followed, often remaining quiet but obedient. On a midnight journey within the Howling Fjord, a small group of worgens ventured out to scout for a human encampment. Sigrid wandered towards the back of the group, paws light upon the brittle leaves. The small group was not expecting to find resistance from what they expected would be prey, and was met with a shower of bullets. Some fell, but Sigrid fled. In her haste, she clumsily allowed her front left paw to be caught in a trap hidden in the shadows of a tree. She howled in pain, brought to the ground. Try as she might, she was unable to force the trap from her, even with the aid of her paws and fangs. She lay still, resting, and allowed unconsciousness to wash over her.

She awoke sometime later, her form appearing as a human one due to her previous unconsciousness. Hazy in the dawn’s light, she dissembled the trap, expertly working its springs and screws to free herself. She sat down and pondered her abandonment, thinking of the other worgen as traitors as they had most likely assumed her dead. Her golden-specked eyes wandered to the dissembled trap and a slow frown grew to dominate her brow. A fraction of her feral nature had temporarily ebbed away due to the shock, allowing her to think clearly. She thought of her past, remembering all in detail – her brother’s death, her parent’s work, her passion for hunting. Instead of returning to Bloodmoon Isle to the ones who had done nothing but torture and betray her, Sigrid decided to take her leave.

She journeyed independently as a hunter and leatherworker, attempting to blend in with society on rare occasions. However, she found her interactions with humans to be strained, and often preferred solitude. She made no effort to return to her home, assured that it was either corrupted or destroyed, but instead searched for new lands – preferably ones which would offer a good hunt.

Personality Description:

Through her curse, Sigrid has developed to have little moral value. She has grown to recognize this within herself and does not object to it. This is partially due to her belief that guilt and other such emotions based on morality and feelings are ‘dangerous’ and ‘vulnerable’. Because she holds this viewpoint, Sigrid is often merciless when faced with a foe. A term such as ‘honorable battle’ is one she would only scoff upon when it is mentioned by humans, as she believes they are not capable of it – and does not claim to be capable of it herself. Despite this, she relishes the hunt and finds joy in fighting to the death with a beast, obsessing over the desire to fight on like terms.

She retains a cynical opinion of society, always assuming a person to have the worst intentions imaginable; she has gone so far as to question if the worgen curse simply unleashes a humanoid nature that society tries desperately to conceal.

Some time ago the reasoning for her actions rarely extended beyond the simple statement: “because I wanted to.” Although she could sometimes exhibit a habit of returning favors, she felt no obligation to do so. Now, however, she is quickly gaining a strange concept of some justice she believes to be 'right'. This seems to be rooted fundamentally on terms of equality.

Since her time at Bloodmoon Isle, she has regained her stubborn nature, which is quickly developing to produce a profound determination within her character.

Those who manage to surpass her rough exterior and prove themselves to her through their actions may be subject to her loyalty if she so chooses. This, however, takes a great deal of strength on multiple levels and her loyalty, if and when it is gained, is a flitting thing more often than not.